


Practice Makes Perfect

by lar_laughs



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Comment Fic, Community: be_compromised, F/M, sneak attack kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-01-20
Packaged: 2017-11-26 04:32:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/646601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lar_laughs/pseuds/lar_laughs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Moving into Stark Tower is fine as long as he gets to keep what's really important.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Practice Makes Perfect

Stark Tower was a revelation to Clint. For a person who always considered SHIELD headquarters to be the epitome of comfort (because doors that closed and LOCKED were something of an anathema where he came from), the tower was a revelation. Comfort and fashion co-existed in a way that he only thought possible on TV.

"And this is your room."

Clint looked over at Pepper, his face as blank as he could make it. "My room?"

"If you'd like it to be." Pepper consulted the Stark Tablet as if it held the answers to the situation. "Of course, you're welcome to change anything if you'd like. Please consult JARVIS if you'd like to take out a wall but everything else is completely up to you."

She continued to talk, expanding on something or other that he quit listening to after he realized it was just conversation filler and had nothing to do with him, but finally came up with a good excuse to leave him alone in the room while she continued on with her much more pressing duties.

The quiet made the room feel more ominous, as if he should have left, as well. There was nothing very comforting here. The chairs weren't chairs so much as metal slats covered in fabric that might rip if he tried to get too comfortable. The bed didn't look any better. He was scared to check out the bathroom in case that proved to be completely unusable.

"This your room?"

He took a deep breath as he turned to face the door. It no longer surprised him that Natasha had the ability to sneak up on him but he normally tried to keep from reacting. Now he didn't think he had it in him to lie to anyone else.

"Yep. This is all mine." When she uncrossed her arms and walked into the room, he struggled not to push past her out into the hallway where he would be able to somehow find the right elevator to take him down to the main doors and freedom. "And how is yours?"

"I hate it."

It took a moment for Clint to realize what she'd said. "You... hate it?"

"It's blue. I hate blue. Yours is blue, too. You hate blue. And these aren't chairs. They're instruments of torture. On second thought, keep these. I think we can make use of them but get rid of the bed."

"Because it's blue?"

She smirked at him. "No, because it looks like it would fall apart with one decent workout."

"Workout?"

This time she gave him a withering frown. "Workout. On a bed. Has it been that long, Clint, that you've forgotten what a bed should really be used for?"

"Not completely my fault. Work got in the way. As did a continent, a guy with a glowing staff, and a swarm of robot aliens."

Natasha didn't appear to be paying any attention to his excuses. Instead, she was pulling out the drawers of the bedside table. "Hey, did you see this?"

"See what?"

When he was within arm's length, she lashed out with a leg, wrapping it around both of his so that he had two choices: either fall against the window or onto the bed. Because he was smart, he took the bed.

One good bounce was enough to confirm that she was wrong. The bed would stand up to a decent workout. Unfortunately, it would be the most uncomfortable workout he could imagine. She held him in place with a hand on his chest as she bent down and covered his mouth with hers. It was everything he hadn't had in over a month, slow and thorough and completely Natasha.

"What was that?" he asked as she pulled back.

"A kiss. Have you forgotten what those are, too? Seriously, Barton, do you have to have constant reminders about these things?"

"Yes." He took hold of her hand and pulled so that she had no choice but to fall back on him. "How about you stay here and catch me back up on how it works?"

"Here?" When she looked up at the blue room, he followed her gaze. Instead of seeing somewhere he could never imagine living, he started to see possibilities. A new color on the walls and completely different furniture, of course, but it didn't seem nearly as horrible as it had.

"Yeah. Here." He reached up to touch her cheek. "You've got something. Right there."

Instead of reacting, she smiled. "What is it?"

"My lips."

"You're learning," she whispered as he kissed his way from her cheek to her mouth. He was going to need a lot more practice to make up for all that time he'd wasted.


End file.
